


Tomorrow will be different

by kittenpompom123



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Can be seen as pre-relationship if you want, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I just really love Deacon okay, Mentions of PTSD, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of self-harm, Nightmares, the stupid MILAs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23088337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenpompom123/pseuds/kittenpompom123
Summary: Nora is struggling. Losing your husband, your son, and your entire life will do that. Working with the Railroad helps, but it can't fix everything. Deacon steps in to offer a hand.
Relationships: Deacon & Sole Survivor (Fallout)
Kudos: 11





	Tomorrow will be different

**Author's Note:**

> TW: mentions of suicide, self-harm, and PTSD. I promise a happy ending though.

“You don’t have to do this tonight,” Drummer Boy whispered, shocked that Nora was gathering the few supplies they had at the Railroad’s headquarters while everyone else was asleep. He followed her closely but she ignored his presence, her back to him while she grabbed a few Stimpacks and put them in her bag. “Don’t you need sleep? It’s so dark out tonight, there’s barely a moon –”

“I’ll be fine. Not tired,” Nora said, pursing her lips into a thin line. She didn’t need any more nightmares. “I’ll be back by sunup. If not, assume I’m dead or something.” She zipped her pack shut and slung it on one shoulder, turning to give Drummer Boy what she hoped was her best “adults know what they’re doing” look.

“Bullseye, I really don’t think this is a good idea,” the teenager continued, nerves in his voice. “At least take a nap or something.”

That hadn’t worked, apparently. New tactic. She did her best to smile and wink at him, pull a Deacon and pretend everything was okay. “I appreciate the concern, Drummer Boy, I really do,” she said, “but I’ll be okay. I do my best thinking walking around alone at night.”

“If that’s what you want to do, but I’m telling Deacon when he gets back.”

And he’d be furious she was going without him again. “Fine. Do that.”

She chose the Deliverer and a Super Sledge for her work tonight. Usually she preferred standing far away with the sniper, but this time she wanted to be in the thick of the action.

Waving Drummer Boy goodbye despite his protests, Nora made her way out the back of the North End Church and into the wrecked city. The dead drop was a few hours’ walk away, especially when navigating through the mess of a city.

Every mission was more of the same. Bullseye, can you grab some supplies? Bullseye, can you kill those raiders/synths/gunners? Not that she was tired of it, really - just glad for the routine and predictability of it. She had to keep herself occupied, or she’d think too much. Without Dogmeat or anybody else at her side, her mind was forced to pay attention to its surroundings instead of think about her past. This was just the first time anybody had caught her leaving the church alone. She didn’t care. She just needed to leave.

A gunshot sounded off in the distance and Nora jumped. Raiders already? If they were this close to the back entrance, she’d have to get rid of them before they found the hideout.

Nora inched closer to the crashed tractor trailer they were occupying, keeping low and pulling out the Deliverer slowly. She heard some talking and laughing, and the occasional crash and tinkling of glass. From what she could judge, there had to be at least a dozen. No dogs.

Outnumbered. Deep breath. She could turn back now, but better to get it done.

Popping up from behind a propped-up palette, Nora aimed and took out as many heads as she could within a few seconds, crouching back down when the idiots finally realized she was shooting at them. Two turrets too, stationed on either side of the trailer’s entrance.

She felt around in her pack and pulled out two stray grenades. With practiced precision, Nora pulled the pin and tossed them in the direction of the turrets, relaxing a little when the incessant hail of bullets ceased.

The unlucky Raiders without guns were coming closer. Nora lugged the Super Sledge out, and she was ready for the three unlucky souls she encountered. Blood everywhere, guts on her shoes. Needed to be washed again.

The others would be here in a moment. Better get moving.

Weaving between fallen newsstands and rusted cars, Nora alternated shooting and ducking, listening closely for footsteps.

She stationed herself behind a rotting couch just near the trailer and prepared to finish off the last of them – from what she could see there were no major players here, just some idiots playing king of the mountain.

One of them had a pretty good rifle though, Nora soon learned, as the bullet punched through the soft fabric of the couch, sending damp polyester filling everywhere. Glancing around, there was no better spot she could move to.

Fuck it. Nora shot blindly, keeping her body as small of a target as she could. It wasn’t enough, apparently, because the bullets kept coming.

“Fuck!” Nora yelled, falling onto her butt. A bullet had gone through the couch and lodged itself in her calf, and blood was soaking her pants. Of course. If she used a Stimpack now she’d just get lead poisoning later.

Angry, Nora stood on her good leg and finished off the offending Raider with a bullet to the head, ducking as the next one came around the corner, guns blazing.

Nora shot his ankles, then his head. He crumpled to the ground. She listened hard for more footsteps, but that must’ve been the last one.

Nora collapsed against the ruined back of the couch until her breathing calmed. That had gone about as well as she expected to.

She inspected her calf carefully, peeling back the blood-soaked pant leg. No better time for surgery, right?

Using a bit of vodka she had in her backpack for these situations, Nora sterilized her somewhat clean tweezers, rolled up a bandana to put in her mouth, and dig around in her calf for the little shit that had ruined her night. She grunted, teeth grinding together, the edges of her vision fading to black as she pulled out the bullet. But a few seconds and it was out.

Sighing with relief, Nora injected herself with a Stimpack and as the bullet wound healed, she turned over the bullet in the green glow of her Pip-Boy. It was funny that something so small could hurt so much.

She flung the bullet across the ground. Fucking Raiders. And she’d lost a lot of time with this whole fiasco. Packing up her supplies, Nora stood up gingerly, testing her weight on her newly healed leg. It was fine - a testament to the technology they’d achieved before the bombs fell.

This was becoming more than a simple errand. Sighing, Nora turned off her Pip-Boy light and trudged along in the direction of the dead drop.

The rest of the trail was relatively empty, and she managed to sneak up on a few stray pests with the super sledge. Without anything shooting at her, she was starting to get really tired. Especially seeing as it was two in the morning. Still, this was a bad place to fall asleep - she’d be dead in an hour without a lookout. Best to keep moving.

Fighting back a yawn, Nora kept a swift pace to the dead drop. She still had a long ways to go - had to keep moving and alert. Her Deliverer stayed in her hands, the radio on her Pip-Boy silent for once, nothing for her to hum along to. No distractions.

As much as she tried to keep herself in the present, Nora’s mind flashed back to the countless sniper missions she’d been sent on in the army. She’d have to set up days, even weeks in advance, and it involved long, solitary treks to the perfect perch, and half the time the places they sent her looked just like this. Devastated. Littered with bones and blood.

Nora took a shaky breath. Glancing over shoulder and listening hard. Stay in the present. She didn’t want any followers.

She made it to the dead drop without much further incident. Reaching into the mailbox, Nora winced, hoping whatever was in here wasn’t alive or disgusting. To her luck, it seemed dry and clean - and there was a piece of paper inside. She dragged it out, dusting herself off and turning on her Pip-Boy light so she could read the paper.

“Everything good with the route to Mercer, but we need more supplies. Food and water running low.”

She folded the paper up and shoving it into her pocket. Good to know that her - and Glory’s - work hadn’t gone to waste at Malden. And there should be enough settlers at the safe house by this point, so she could set up a supply line. She’d drag Deacon to Zimonja tomorrow, even though he hated wandering around in the forest.

Nora froze when she heard barking a few blocks away. What the hell? She thought she’d cleared out the mongrels from the alleyways.

Drawing the Deliverer, Nora crouched behind the mailbox, careful to make no noise. Whatever was barking was coming closer, and there were human footsteps too -

She crept out of her hiding spot and was about to shoot, but she recognized the dog and the man in sunglasses behind him.

Bolstering the gun and standing up, Nora greeted Dogmeat by rubbing her hand behind his ears. Deacon arrived shortly after, wheezing.

“Good... boy... dog,” he huffed in between breaths. After a few more moments, he said, “When I told Dogmeat to find you, he took off like a shot. I could barely keep up. And we almost ran into some Super Mutants. He really likes you, huh?”

In any other situation, Nora would’ve been smiling, but she just put her hands on her hips. “Deacon, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out until tomorrow morning?”

“I got back a few hours ago, and then I saw your bed was empty and that you’d left even without Dogmeat. Drummer Boy told me about the dead drop once I woke everyone up.”

“You woke them all up?!”

“Of course I did! You’re one of their best agents and you just fucking left the safe house alone in the middle of the night! What the hell were you thinking?!”

Nora crossed her arms. “I’ve done this plenty of times before. just wanted to get out – “  
“Nora, stop.” Nora shut up when she saw the real anger on Deacon’s face, all traces of joking gone. “What the _hell_ were you thinking? Do you have a death wish? You know you need a companion. I followed at least two pints of your blood on the way here.”

Nora sighed, sitting down on the ruined sidewalk. She grabbed her knees, resting her chin on them. Deacon sat down next to her, an eyebrow raised, but remained silent as she thought of what to say.  
“I… Oh god, this is so stupid,” she groaned, burying her face in her knees.

“I’m sure it’s not if it’s bothering you this much. Come on. What’s going on in that great mind of yours?”  
“Okay, fine,” She sighed, intentionally staring at the ground. She would. Not. Cry. And she knew seeing Deacon’s big doe eyes would make her cry.

“I have really bad nightmares. Mostly it’s of Nate, my husband… ex-husband? I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Anyway. I can’t sleep a lot. Ever. I’m sure you’ve noticed that. On a good night I get four hours of sleep. And I knew tonight was going to be bad, especially after all the Raiders we ran into yesterday…” She shuddered. “Look, I just needed to get out. And going alone, where I actually had to pay attention to my surroundings, was the easiest way. I know you’re angry. I just… I don’t know what the hell else to _do_ ,” her voice cracked, and the tears came anyway.

“Shit, kid,” Deacon said, and took off his sunglasses. “I mean, I knew about the nightmares. You’ve clocked me in the face more than once. And I try to, um, _discreetly_ wake you up if you start screaming. Don’t really want to be murdered by Raiders on top of having a bad dream.” He sighed, folding his sunglasses in his hands. “Why didn’t you just talk to me in the first place? You know I have your back.”

Fuck it, she was crying anyway. Deacon had never done her wrong, and he deserved the truth.

Nora looked up at him, wiping at her face. “Honestly, Deacon…” She sniffed. “I know you know a lot about the Old World, but that’s mostly through artifacts and terminal entries. There’s a lot of things… Things nobody wrote down, things you’d never know unless you asked someone. Growing up, I was _always_ told to keep my mouth shut about my emotions. It didn’t matter if I was having a fucking mental breakdown. The second I started talking about anything, even to Nate, I was labeled as crazy. “Hysterical” was the scientific term. You know I was a soldier in the war – I got sent home because I hurt too many people. They’d let women sacrifice their lives and then lock them up if their minds couldn’t take it.” She shook away the memories and tucked her greasy hair behind her ears.

Deacon folded the sunglass arms idly in his hands, looking at Nora with concern. “I… geez, Nora. I’m so sorry. The world just isn’t the same anymore. I guess nuclear annihilation gave everyone nightmares, huh?”

Nora smiled, wiping away more tears. “Something like that.”

Deacon opened his sunglasses, studied Nora one last time, and placed them on his face. “We should get back to business. Are you hurt?”  
Nora was grateful that he was taking point on this – she was too exhausted to argue. “I’m okay. Just a bullet to the calf – nothing some tweezers and a Stimpack couldn’t fix.”  
“Geez, Bullseye, you’re one hell of a badass. Are you okay to make it back to HQ before we head out? Want a nap? I can sit out here for a while. You’ve given me a few things to think about.”  
Now that he did mention it… they had a very, very long walk back to headquarters, and she was exhausted.

“I… I’d appreciate a nap. Are you sure?”  
“Yep!” He patted his lap. “Prime pillow, right here. Your backpack is way too full of junk to be comfortable.”

Nora snorted. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”  
Deacon pouted. “I’m not! But hey, if you want to sleep on the concrete, go for it. No telling how many things peed where we’re sitting…”  
Nora rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. Wake me up, though. I don’t want to make everyone else worry.” Not to mention that Desdemona would have her head when they got back.

“Eh, they can wait. Besides, their best agent went to rescue the worst one. They’re pretty good as a team.”  
Nora snorted. “Shut up and let me sleep, Deacon.” She settled her head on Deacon’s lap, allowing the noises of the Wasteland – groaning metal, distant gunshots, and barking dogs – to lull her to sleep.

>>>>>>>

When Nora woke up, she nearly jumped before she realized what was happening – Deacon was absentmindedly running his fingers through her hair.

Nate used to do the same when they watched terrible movies at home.

Well, this was awkward. For all of his lies, Nora did appreciate having someone like Deacon by her side – he was constantly, unerringly upbeat, no matter the situation. While she couldn’t tell if this was the mark of something bigger, or just a slip, it was nice.

Nora made a big show of opening her eyes slowly, and Deacon’s hand left her scalp. She sat up, stretching the stiffness out of her muscles.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Deacon said. “You snore.”

Nora snorted, a tiny smile on her lips. “Liar.” She checked her Pip-Boy – she’d slept for a few hours. “Do you need a nap? We should get going otherwise.”  
“No, I’ll be okay. Still hopped up on adrenaline.”  
“Sorry.” Nora took a deep breath. “I really am sorry about all of this. I guess I didn’t realize I had… friends in this world.”  
“Well, you better get used to it, because I’m not leaving.” Deacon flashed a smile. He stood up, offering Nora a hand. “Ready to face the music?”  
“I don’t know if ‘ready’ is the right word,” Nora said, taking his hand. “More like ‘resigned to my inevitable doom.’ “

Deacon laughed. “Yeah, Dez’s lectures are the _worst_. Not as bad as Carrington, though. If he’d just remove the stick up his ass, maybe I’d start listening to him…”

  
>>>>>>>>

“What you did was stupid, inconsiderate, reckless, not to _mention_ that you could’ve been followed and led all of us to our deaths – “  
“I wasn’t followed. I made sure.”  
“Regardless, going out in the city alone at night is dangerous. Do you have a death wish?” She paused for a moment, searching in Nora’s eyes. “Never mind, don’t answer that. I’m putting you on probation until you can figure out how to _not_ wake everyone up in the middle of the night with your stupidity.” She crossed her arms, leaning back. “Tom, how’s your MILA project going?”  
“Huh?” He looked up from whatever he was soldering on his desk. “It’s not bad. I just wish I could get more of these puppies out there, start collecting more data…”  
“Bullseye can help you with that. Deacon, are you going with her?” Dez raised an eyebrow, addressing the silent figure behind Nora.

“’Course, boss.” He tried to flash Nora a smile, but she wasn’t in the mood to smile back.

“Fine. Come talk to me in a week. Until then, you do everything Tom tells you to do, without question.” Nora opened her mouth to protest, but Desdemona cut her off. “Is that understood, Bullseye?”

“Understood, ma’am.”  
“Good. Now get to bed. You look like you’re about to keel over.”

Without another word, Nora turned around, making careful eye contact with everyone who’d witnessed the lecture. All in all, it could’ve been worse.

“Sorry for waking you all up,” She said, sighing. “It won’t happen again.”  
“Better not,” Carrington said, huffing. “We’re all running on minimal sleep as it is.”  
Nora nodded, keeping her eyes trained on the floor as she made her way to the escape tunnel, finding the last mattress and setting her pack down.

“How are you?”

Nora jumped – she hadn’t heard Deacon behind her.

“I’m – Could be worse. Tired. I just want to go to bed.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she sunk down on the mattress, ignoring the tears that coursed down her cheeks.

Deacon sat next to her, rubbing slow circles into her back. “Get some sleep, Nora. Tomorrow’s – well, today’s – a new day. We’ve got a lot of MILAs to lug.”  
Nora groaned. “Can we throw them off the freeway?”  
He laughed, his eyes crinkling. “You can, but there’s always more.”

>>>>>>>

A week of hauling delicate, heavy metal equipment went about as well as expected. Nora threw out her back within the first day of carrying all of the MILAs, and she finally allowed Deacon to carry more than one of them.

They were at the top of a nearly destroyed parking garage, eyeing the nearly intact street lamp that Tom wanted Nora to balance the MILA on top of. The parking garage was a few stories up already, but with the extra ten feet they could gain a lot more information.

Nora squinted against the sunlight with a look on her face that Deacon knew all too well. “I got this, Deac.”

He laughed. “You can’t be serious. You’re not 22 anymore, boss, no offense. You just pulled your back a few days ago – “  
“I’m doing this job right.” Nora dropped her back and dug around for some chalk. It wasn’t in a powder form, but it was good enough – at least it would stop her hands from getting super sweaty in this heat.

She grabbed a chalk stick, drawing all over her hands. “And you say my pack rat tendencies aren’t helpful.”  
“I – to be honest, I’m not sure what you’re doing.”  
Nora smiled. “It’s a climber thing. Putting chalk on your hands absorbs sweat so you don’t slip. Usually they use powdered chalk, but this stuff is so crumbly, it should work.” Hands thoroughly ghost-like, Nora dropped the chalk stick in her pack. “Let’s just hope I don’t ruin this MILA with the chalk on my hands. God knows they’re delicate.”  
“Nora, are you really sure you should do this?

“It’s what Tom wants, right? He needs the help.”  
“He wouldn’t know the difference either way if we just put it on the ground here – “  
“I’m doing my best to help, Deac. I’ll be okay.” Nora gave him a reassuring smile, picking up the MILA with one hand and pressing it against her side.

She actually managed to get pretty far up the pole before she started slipping – the MILA was hard to balance and her hands were still sweaty – and she unceremoniously lost her grip.

Nora felt the wind thoroughly and completely knocked out of her when she hit the ground, and then a sharp pain as something lodged itself into her back.

“Nora!” Deacon rushed over, helping her up. “Shit, you’re bleeding…” He examined her back carefully. “Can you breathe okay? Not your ribs?”  
Nora took a deep breath. It was sore, but nothing felt out of place. “No, must be glass or something,” She said, wincing. “Can you see it?”  
“Not really – you gotta strip,” He said, already taking her jacket off. Her face red already, Nora helped as much as she could with her battered body, until she was sitting there in her bra.

She avoided eye contact, staring very carefully at the ground. They’d been in situations like this before, but it was a long time ago, and she wasn’t the one stripping.

Deacon poked and prodded at her back, steadying one hand against her as he pulled something out. Nora heard the clattering of metal as he pulled out a few more pieces – broken can, probably – and a pinch, then rush of relief as he injected her with a Stimpack. He was uncharacteristically silent.

“Thank you, Deacon,” She said, still staring at the ground. “I have some clothes in my backpack.”  
“Sure,” He said, and tossed some clothes to her. “Need any help?”  
“No, I’m okay,” Nora said, carefully putting on the clothes among bruised muscles and bones that were already starting to feel better. “Thanks.” She turned to look at Deacon, and he was staring at the ground, shuffling his feet.

“I’m sorry, Deacon. I shouldn’t have done that.”  
He was silent for a few moments, then came and sat next to her. “I’m not mad. I’m just worried about you. I – you know I hate to ask this, Nora, but I have to – exactly how suicidal are you?”

Nora was silent for a long while, staring at her feet. “I wish I was better at hiding it. Sorry. It just… it would be nice if I didn’t wake up tomorrow. Would be nice if a Raider just decided to aim a little better and get me in the head next time. But it’s not like I’m going to jump off the freeway.”

Deacon nodded. “I get it. Been there, done that, like they used to say. You know you can always talk to me, right? I’m not going to judge you.”

“Yeah. I know.” She flashed a weak smile. “Thank you.”

Deacon stood up, patting her roughly on the head. “Come on, Bullseye. We’ve got a long way to the next site.”  
Nora groaned, gingerly getting off the ground. She surveyed the rusty metal that had previously been stuck in her back – were tetanus shots still effective after cryogenic hibernation? – and she was glad she had someone at her side. She missed Nate, of course, but Deacon had been her rock throughout the entire ordeal of being thawed 200 years after the apocalypse.

She grabbed her backpack, and checked the map on her Pip-Boy.

“Looks like…” she swiveled around and pointed toward the horizon. “This direction. Any radio preference?”

“Anything but DCR. I swear to God, I’ll even take the classical station at this point – “  
“Diamond City Radio it is!”  
  


>>>>>>>

One of the locations Tom wanted MILA in was, surprisingly, not a tall building or the freeway. He wanted one by Sanctuary – just because it was a corner of the map they hadn’t covered yet. There were some hills behind Vault 111 they’d planned on using, since it was out of the way of potential scrappers and it was a higher elevation.

Nora managed to avoid getting dragged into the affairs of the settlement but she made an appearance, saying hello to Preston Garvey and the other friends she had met who had decided to live here. She pointedly avoided going into her old house, or any of the houses for that matter – choosing to say a round of hellos and then leave just as quickly without an explanation.

She was uncharacteristically silent as they walked up the path behind the neighborhood and to the vault entrance, the familiar songs on the radio sounding hollow without her softly singing along. Deacon didn’t comment, closely watching her body language.

He bit his tongue as she trekked up the cliff behind the vault, and he followed after her.

“Huh, looks like a lookout post here, definitely post-war…” She rounded the tiny, makeshift shack and nearly recoiled when she saw the Railroad ally sign hastily drawn on the wall.

For once, she didn’t say anything, just stood there silently for a few moments.

Deacon ventured, “Bullseye?”  
“You knew about this.” It wasn’t a question. She held out the MILA like a pointer- a very scary, rattling metal pointer. “The Railroad was watching me. You were watching me? Information is your specialty, after all, and that Diamond City guard outfit fits you too damn well – “  
“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you. Dez didn’t.”  
Nora studied the look in his eyes for a minute and relented, her anger disappearing. She set the MILA down on the chair, powering it on. She turned to look at the vault entrance.

“Nate is down there. And a lot of my neighbors. You know, they were actually pretty nice to me even though they thought I was crazy. One of my neighbors would babysit Shaun from time to time. She didn’t have any kids but she loved him.”

Deacon gripped her shoulder. She looked at him, tears in her eyes. “I’m starting to sound like a broken record, huh?”  
“Not at all. You’ve gone through more than most people can endure and come back pretty much okay. I’d say that’s one hell of an accomplishment. Let’s get out of here, okay?”  
“Can we sneak out and avoid Preston?”  
“I thought you’d never ask.”

>>>>>>>

They’d holed up in one of the more remote houses outside of Sanctuary for the night. Nora had nearly disappeared inside a sleeping bag, while Deacon preferred the single-blanket sandwich method for sleeping. This wasn’t anything outside of the norm, but this was one of the first truly humid and hot nights they’d been outside in, and it was baffling why Nora insisted on sleeping inside a nylon bag.

“It’s a summer night, boss. I don’t know why you’re not sweaty.”

“I am. I just… usually can’t sleep with pants on. My pants are in the bottom of the sleeping bag.”  
Deacon raised an eyebrow. “You, one of the most esteemed heavies of the Railroad, think that I, Deacon _the_ best agent the Railroad has ever seen, would care whether or not you’re wearing pants?”  
He saw her blush even in the dim lighting of her Pip-Boy.

Nora hid her face in the sleeping bag more, murmuring a muffled, “yes.”  
“Well, you’re wrong. Come on. I have some room in the blanket burrito.”

Her eyes peeked out from the sleeping blanket. “You swear you don’t care? This really isn’t the right time to have this conversation, but I don’t think I’m ready to date anybody yet. Not that I don’t think you’re a great friend, it’s just…”

Deacon smiled, patting the blanket. “You’re my favorite partner, Bullseye, and nothing more. Come on. Before the rad roaches start nibbling at your feet.”

At the mention of bugs her eyes widened and she kicked off the sleeping bag, scooting over and under the blanket.

“How are you doing, by the way?” Deacon inquired, scooting over to give Nora more room. They were still close to each other, but not enough that it was awkward.

“I’m… a little better. For now, at least. You’ve been… really helpful, Deacon. Thank you.” She turned on her side, away from Deacon. Her voice was soft when she spoke next.

“What I said earlier about not being ready to date… I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to date again. And I – I don’t know if the… signals I’ve been getting from you are really there, and I don’t know if I’m just making everything worse by putting it out in the open now, but – “  
“Nora, of course I want to date you. You’re beautiful, smart as a whip, and really sexy dismantling weapons for scrap. But if you’re not ready for a relationship, that’s okay. I don’t _need_ to date you to still want to be around you. If something happens someday, then that’s great. And if not, that’s okay too. For now, I’m happy where we are as friends.”  
Her voice cracked. “Deacon, I… thank you.”

He smiled. “You don’t need to thank me for being a decent person. Come on, we should get some sleep.”

Nora shut off the light from her Pip-Boy, but Deacon caught her wiping away tears. He turned on his side, still smiling – and ready to catch her flailing arms when they inevitably hit him in the middle of the night.


End file.
